


There's No Beauty In Death.

by EtherealGhost



Category: DRRR, Durarara!!
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Blood and Gore, Death, Gore, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Shizaya - Freeform, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtherealGhost/pseuds/EtherealGhost
Summary: A normal day in Ikebukuro goes haywire when Izaya appears. Sparks of rage instantly fill Shizuo upon seeing the informants lithe form, and not a thought crosses his mind as he rips a sign from the street and throws it at the man.It's already too late when Shizuo realizes Izaya isn't making efforts to dodge the oncoming collision.





	1. Chapter One.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy. ❤

    Izaya is smaller than what Shizuo had previously thought him to be.

    He’s smaller, and sharper. All jagged edges both on the inside and out.

    His skin is fair- porcelain without any cracks, without any proof of age. His hair is dark, raven black, silky, and messy. It suits him, though. Suits his looks- suits his personality.

    Messy. Ruthless. Spontaneous.

    Izaya is smaller than what Shizuo had previously thought him to be.

    Izaya is also much more quiet now- this was different- Shizuo didn’t like it.

    He didn’t like it because this _isn’t_ Izaya.

    He didn’t like it because- _why isn’t he opening his eyes? Why didn’t he dodge? Why is there so much blood?_

    Burgundy- sickly sweet, acrid and metallic- splattered in nasty blotches across the pavement. Some of it was smeared, due to the physical force that had dragged Izaya across the concrete. Some of it still sloshed onto the ground from where it left the large tear in Izaya's abdomen.

    Shizuo kept his eyes focused on Izaya's face; witnessing the other man's literal internal organs spilling out wasn’t a thing he necessarily wanted to do.

    But, then again, sitting here and cradling the Flea’s lifeless body wasn’t what he wanted to be doing, either.

    Everything had happened so quickly- in reality it had been a pretty normal day. Shizuo was going about his work day, a _s usual_ , Izaya had shown up, _as usual_ , Shizuo had shouted his name, _as usual_.

    Izaya hadn’t acknowledged him- _unusual_.

    Shizuo had thrown a sign, the jagged pole of it striking towards Izaya like a spear.

    Izaya hadn’t dodged.

    Izaya had turned at the last moment, a glint in his ruby red eyes.

    A smile upon his face.

    Not one of his usual mischievous smirks- no. A legitimate smile.

    Shizuo wasn’t able to figure out what the expression meant; he was too focused on watching with wide eyes as the pole struck Izaya's form, sending him sprawling across the pavement as blood splattered in bright red crimson around him. The pole clattered away once it had torn through the informants side, falling heavily onto the sidewalk with a ‘clang!’.

    For a moment, the crimson reminded Shizuo of Izaya's eyes, and he thought he was still staring into them. Well, that was until a shrill scream ripped him from that illusion, and he looked around to watch as individuals scattered away, running for their own safety.

    Running away from him.

    A _monster_.

    It was funny, for a moment, that none of them had even acknowledged the mutilated informant, laying in a limp heap on the ground. After all- who was a stranger to them? No, not even a stranger… Who was this bastard informant to them? No one.

    Shizuo’s first reaction was, of course, rage. Seething, blinding. Despite the blood, creating a crime scene upon the ground, Shizuo instantly assumed Izaya to be fucking with him.

    He had to be.

    He couldn’t just…

    Flea’s don’t die that easily…

    ...Right?

    Shizuo wanted to call out his name- wanted to sneer out a snarky remark. But, his voice was stuck in his throat, and he had to swallow past a lump as he took a hesitant step forward.

    Somehow, that ended up as how he was now- cradling a dead Flea in his arms as his mind tried to catch up with what the actual hell had just happened.

    Izaya's eyes were closed, and his complexion was quickly fading into a sickly grey. He was no longer porcelain- no longer that malicious Flea who was always up to no good.

    Shizuo's eyes stung as he stared down at that face, but tears refused to fall.

    Izaya was still beautiful, even in death.

    To any oblivious onlookers, this was probably an morbidly romantic scene. A man mourning over the loss of his partner- the loss of a love so dynamic that only they could understand it.

    But, to any regular citizens of Ikebukuro, they would know the truth. The horrid, nightmarish truth of what had actually just happened between these two enemies.

    The dog had finally captured the cat between his jowls.

    The dog hadn’t expected this outcome- Hadn’t wanted this outcome.

    Their chases, their fights and constant teasing had become nothing more than that, recently. It was all fun and games, somewhat of a stress reliever for them both.

    Sure, there was always some type of malicious intent, or anger behind said actions, but both of them had stopped acting upon their death threats long ago.

    Long ago, when the anger, and rage, and hate had turned into something else- something _more_.

    Shizuo’s hand was trembling as he reached up to touch Izaya's cheek. The informant was icy, his body starting to stiffen as rigor mortis set in. He looked… Well, dead. There was no lively teasing, no brilliant red eyes or cute little smirk.

    There was just grey skin, sunken in eyes, and small trails of blood trickling from his nose and lips.

    Shizuo couldn’t cry. He couldn’t sob, or scream, or hit something.

    He could only stare.

    Stare at the missed opportunities, the unsaid words and hidden actions.

    He could only stare at the man who had kept him going for ages- kept him fighting, kept him alive.

    There was a hole where Shizuo's heart once sat, a harrowing emptiness that consumed his entire being until he felt like he would collapse into nothing but dust.

    There would be no more chases.

    No more ‘Shizu-chan’s’, and no more passionate sparks between them.

    There would be no more Izaya, because Izaya was dead, and Shizuo was a _monster_.

 


	2. Chapter Two.

     The afterlife wasn’t turning up to as swell as he presumed it to be.

     There was no beautiful Valkyrie to lead him towards the divine gates of Valhalla. There was no higher power to praise his own godlike existence. There was nothing.

     There was only Ikebukuro.

     As it had been.

     Five seconds after he had gotten skewered with a pole.

     And really, staring at your own lifeless body wasn’t what it shaped up to be.

     But, watching your enemy crumble into pieces _was_.

     Izaya scuffed his shoe against the ground- well, tried to, at least. Things were hazy and dreamlike, and his foot, despite actually being on the ground, didn’t seem to actually make contact.

     Huh.

     Being dead was strange.

     His eyes, unnaturally brighter than they had been during life, stayed focused on Shizuo's face, watching as his resolve fell with each second that passed.

     It was odd, really. He hadn’t expected Shizuo to react like this, cradling his body and falling into distress. He had expected a victory cheer, a large smirk and an attitude that screamed ‘I won you smarmy Flea!’

     Izaya's lips turned up into a soft smirk,

     _“Always so unpredictable, my monster…”_ He noted that his voice sounded echoey- it must have been another ‘you’re now dead!’ type of thing. He’d have to get used to it.

     All in all, being suddenly murdered wasn’t really apart of his plan. Well, ultimately winding up dead was, but not like this. Never like this.

     It was supposed to be different.

     It was supposed to be him lasting long enough to look Shizuo in the eyes and spit out a brutal, ‘Happy now, _monster_?’. It was supposed to be him lasting long enough to see Shizuo's expression as his body went cold.

     But of course, as the universe would have it, Izaya didn’t get what he had wanted, and was promptly killed within seconds.

     _“So unfair… Shizu-chan, you were supposed to throw it a little lower, that way I could’ve bled out instead.”_ His words were morbid, and dripped with an odd combination of emotions.

     Anger, regret, misery.

     It dripped with every emotion he never got to express towards Shizuo in life.

     Despair, happiness, bewilderment…

     ...It dripped with the sweet tone of heartbreak- of unspoken love now lost to the shadows.

     Izaya knelt down, his head tipping up so he could fully take in Shizuo's expression,

     _“Such a dejected look… How strange…”_ He reached out, but his hand simply went through Shizuo, so he made a little ‘ah’ sound.

     Really, what had he expected?

     A bigger picture? Something better after he had finally died?

     Well, his expectations were shot down almost immediately.

     Now he was some shitty cliche spirit, stuck in Ikebukuro, haunting an equally shitty brute.

     Perhaps this was his punishment, of sorts. That wouldn’t be surprising, really.  

     The sudden monotone of Shizuo's voice captured Izaya's attention immediately, tearing him from his thoughts,

     “You damn bastard…” His voice was shaking, and it raised curiosity within Izaya, “What happened to your promise of killing me, huh?! Open your damn eyes, Flea!”

     Izaya no longer had a heartbeat, but something struck through his chest painfully. He forced a laugh, and fully collapsed to his knees,

     _“You look like a lunatic yelling at a dead body like that, you know…”_

     “You can't leave Ikebukuro like this, Flea!”

    _“You’re the one who killed me, dummy, stop acting like a victim.”_

     There was a pause- a stuttered breath, and then a broken voice,

     “You can’t leave me like this, Izaya…”

     …

     Oh.

     _Oh_.

     Izaya no longer required oxygen, but his breath halted anyways.

     Izaya no longer required blood, but his veins ran with ice.

     “Y-You… You need to wake up, because who am I gonna chase around this dumb city, huh?”

     Izaya no longer required emotion, but his eyes stung and watered- his entire being felt cold and detached and filled to the brim with remorse.

     This shouldn’t have happened.

     None of this- He fucked up, and there was no turning back.

     A sob ripped from Izaya's throat before he could stop it as sudden overwhelming emotion crashed into his small frame. But, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Shizuo couldn’t hear him, no one could hear him.

     So, he cried.

     He screamed, he sobbed, he mourned over what should have been.

     The passion, mistaken for hate between the two. The passion that was undeniably deeper than just hate.

     It was a fucked up type of love, but it was their type of love.

     It was, and now it never could be again.

     There was so much more they could’ve done, could’ve said.

     Neither of them would have had to been alone, they could’ve had each other and faced the world with their messy and obscure love.

     But now, that chance was over. Both of them would be damned to lives of solitude, always knowing that a part of them would be forever missing.

     _“We… We really messed up this time, huh?”_ Izaya choked the words out, and he reached towards Shizuo again despite knowing that it was useless.

     Surprisingly, Shizuo looked up, and his own eyes connected with Izaya's own wide ones.

     But, he didn’t see the informant. He stared right through him.

     Despite that, Izaya smiled through his tears-smiled through the excruciating pain in his heart- his hand hovering over Shizuo's cheek,

     _“See you again someday, Shizu-chan…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed. You can also find this fic over on Wattpad under my user 'EtherealGhostBoy' !! ❤


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